


to offer up with both hands

by Hymn



Series: Hymn's Fic: Katekyo Hitman Reborn Collection [5]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: /facepalm, Aftercare, Anal Play, Dirty Talk, Dom Tsuna, Future Fic, Gets dirty fast, I ALMOST FORGOT TO ADD PRAISE, Light BDSM, M/M, Masturbation, Orders, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Phone Sex, Praise, Sexting, Stars off soft, a hint of subspace?, also slight exhibitionism in that tsuna is in public tho takeshi isn't??, i don't know what i'm talking about, is that everything?? i hope so, omg, other kinks talked about ala dirty talk, scene play, takeshi pov, the typos in text are deliberate lol, this sounds so much more intense than it actually is lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:20:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22171699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hymn/pseuds/Hymn
Summary: Takeshi had been away from Japan for approximately three months.Three months of mitigating tension between rival families on foreign soil that he hadn’t seen and had barely spoken to since his days in the MLB. Three months of living out of a single duffel bag and trying not to accumulate enough shit to make his hotel room look like a place he was living, rather than just a stopping point in his travels. Three months of wandering the Strand and chatting with the girls in their feathered get ups, drinking overpriced margaritas to beat the heat of the sun pounding down on endless concrete. Three months of long, tense nights on the floor of different casinos, making nice and never letting his guard down.Three months since he last had Tsuna in his arms.
Relationships: Sawada Tsunayoshi/Yamamoto Takeshi
Series: Hymn's Fic: Katekyo Hitman Reborn Collection [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1356361
Comments: 10
Kudos: 90





	to offer up with both hands

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh.. i worked on four different KHR fics tonight before finishing this all in a frustrated rush so... dunno how good it is, but here's hoping its at least a little enjoyable! remember that safewords are your friends even when people don't use them in fic :'D happy reading~!
> 
> (title from ani difranco's both hands which is an absolutely gorgeous song and i'm laughing forever at how i've abused it for this title and also laughing a lot at this title in general haha PLS USE BOTH HANDS TAKESHI)

  
  
  
  


Takeshi had been away from Japan for approximately three months. 

Three months of mitigating tension between rival families on foreign soil that he hadn’t seen and had barely spoken to since his days in the MLB. Three months of living out of a single duffel bag and trying not to accumulate enough shit to make his hotel room look like a place he was living, rather than just a stopping point in his travels. Three months of wandering the Strand and chatting with the girls in their feathered get ups, drinking overpriced margaritas to beat the heat of the sun pounding down on endless concrete. Three months of long, tense nights on the floor of different casinos, making nice and never letting his guard down.

Three months since he last had Tsuna in his arms.

Mostly he did his best not to think about the agony of that though, burying his misery and just getting on with things. He almost couldn’t believe it when the job in Nevada was finally finished. All he felt was quiet exhaustion, a sort of worn and weary relief and satisfaction in a job well done. “You gonna stick around a while?” Ramirez asked, when the final treaty was signed, sealed, and delivered.

“No, thank you,” Takeshi smiled. “As much fun as your city is, I’m ready to go home.”

That was an understatement, if anything. As soon as politeness allowed, Takeshi had left MGM and walked over to the Excalibur through a side entrance, up the elevators and straight to his room. “C’mon,” Gokudera had said when Tsuna first booked the place. “Seriously? The Excalibur? We can do better than _that_. I’ll make a call to the Venetian, we can’t allow Vongola to look like they can’t afford a nice--”

“No,” Tsuna interrupted. “I’ve already made the reservations. And besides, the Venetian is part of the problem here. Excalibur is neutral territory. No one is going to fuss if Takeshi-kun stays there.” 

It had been excuse enough to shut Gokudera up, though Takeshi could guess the real reason: he preferred to go downstairs and shoot hoops rather than gamble, and Tsuna had _known_ it, had made certain that when Takeshi was wound tight enough to burst he’d have an outlet to feel normal. In three months, Takeshi had blown through thousands of quarters. His high score was unbeatable. He thought about going down there now, just for old time’s sake. But--

Instead, he hauled out his laptop to book a flight homeward.

\---

“I’ll be there Tuesday morning,” he yawned later that afternoon.

“Tuesday your time?”

“No,” Takeshi said, glancing back at where the confirmation screen sat triumphant, thanking him for his purchase and for choosing JAL. He stared at the destination longingly, wishing he could time jump or teleport or _something_ , anything to get him there quicker. “Japan time. I don’t even have the energy to attempt the math to figure out what time that’d be here. Gets in at seven. God, that’s going to be a long flight.”

“I could send the jet?” 

Takeshi laughed, mostly at the way he could _hear_ Tsuna wincing as he said it, even over the hotel room’s shitty phone. “And cause a fuss about overstepping? _Tsuna_ , how much work do you think I just did to calm these Americans down?”

“Right,” sighed Tsuna. “Of course. Sorry.”

“Mm, no need to apologize,” Takeshi murmured. He left the desk to collapse onto the bed, the long night catching up to him. The spiral phone cord stretched obligingly. “Nice to know you want me home enough to send the big guns.”

Tsuna sputtered. “Should you be mentioning guns? Am I about to hear security banging down your door?”

“Ha!”

“I really will have to send in the big guns if that happens. And…” his voice changed, shifting from teasing to gentle warmth, a shy sweetness. “Yeah. Of course I want you home, Takeshi-kun. I miss you.”

Staring up at the nauseatingly familiar ceiling, spread out on the hatefully familiar bed, Takeshi had to swallow hard past a lump in his throat. His whole body seemed to throb, aching with loneliness and longing. “I… I miss you too, Tsuna. God, I miss _home_. I miss the kids, and -- and my _dad_. I can’t wait to get out of here.”

“Takeshi-kun--”

“Sorry,” Takeshi cut in, laughing a little awkwardly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to break down like that. Just been.. Been a crazy few months, you know? But I’m fine.”

“ _Takeshi_ \--”

“Really, I’m fine!”

Tsuna said, voice too loud and echoing strange down the line: “I know you are! Or at least, you will be. But just because you can handle it doesn’t mean you’re… you know. _Fine_. Because you can be fine and also _not_ fine at the same time. And that’s okay, Takeshi-kun. I mean it. I’m just… I’m sorry I had to send you there at all, you know? It sucks.”

His eyes were burning. That seemed a stupid thing to have happen when Takeshi was going to be home within the week, but Tsuna was right: even though Takeshi _was_ fine, that didn’t mean that it hadn’t been a lonely three months, that it hadn’t been difficult -- not just because of the work required, but also because of being away from home, from Family. Exhaustion and relief were getting to him, it seemed, and now that the job was finished and he didn’t have to just _get on with things_ , his defenses were lowering and leaving him vulnerable.

“Hey? You still there?”

“Yeah,” Takeshi whispered.

“I really am sorry. You were the only one of us who could have done this job, but I still wish you’d never had to go at all. But if-- if there had been _anyone_ else, I would have sent them. Three months is way too long!”

Takeshi felt a weak smile tweak at the corners of his mouth. At least if he was going to be a wreck, it was _Tsuna_ witnessing; the Vongola Boss always made him feel better, a warmth in the core of him that centered and steadied. He thought about telling Tsuna to stop apologizing; about how there hadn’t been anything else to do, that this was their life, how things had to be, and that Takeshi had no regrets even after three months on American soil.

But he thought maybe he deserved to be a little needy and selfish after all this, so all he said was: “Yeah? And did I do a good one?”

“What?”

“Tsuna,” he said, voice lower, warmer, because he couldn’t help himself. “Did I do a good job?”

“Well, of course,” Tsuna said. “You always do.” 

Takeshi should have video called him on his cell, not used the hotel phone. Wrapping the cord around his finger, Takeshi wished he could see Tsuna smiling at him. “Awesome. That means you’ll give me a reward when I get home, yeah?”

Again, Tsuna sputtered. “W-what kind of reward?!”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Takeshi murmured. He uncoiled the cord, watching it spring back into shape. “But I’ll start thinking of some different ones,” he added, “just in case you want the help.”

Over the line, Tsuna’s breath hitched. “Oh.”

Takeshi smiled. “ _Oh_.”

It was amazing how badly he longed to be _home_ after so many weeks of pretending otherwise. The need, the want -- it curled in him like a storm, a deluge dark on the horizon and threatening to break. He could use a distraction, an outlet for the last three months of feeling barren and hollow. Taking a deep breath, Takeshi readjusted so the phone was nestled casually between the pillow and his ear, both hands hovering hesitantly over his hips. The tips of his fingers glanced against the sleek leather of his belt. 

He said, “Hey, Tsuna. You busy?”

“Uh?”

A finger plucked at the tongue of his belt. He could feel himself getting hard just at the thought of Tsuna’s voice in his ear and his own hand down his slacks, chasing relief; it’d been so _long_. 

“What are you up to right now?” he asked, carefully casual.

“Well,” said Tsuna. “I’m talking to _you_. But I actually have you on speakerphone because I have a dinner in half an hour with Yuni and Byakuran that I have to get ready for. And I am not looking forward to it. Well, okay, no -- I’m looking forward to seeing Yuni. I always look forward to seeing Yuni. But --”

Takeshi laughed.

He let his hands fall limp at his sides despite the newly awakened pulse in his groin, the thickening of his flesh, the sharpening of his need. It hurt, but it was a better kind of hurt than before. And besides: Takeshi was used to waiting. He could handle a little longer. _Tuesday_ , that was all he had to hold out for.

He said, “Mm, Byakuran’s never going to change, is he?”

“No,” Tsuna sighed. “No, he’s not.”

“What’s Yuni doing in town?”

There was a rustling noise. Now that Takeshi knew to listen for it, he could hear the faint distance and mild static he’d thought had been only his end of the line, the old hotel phone acting up. He wondered idly if Tsuna was shirtless, if he had a pair of socks in each hand, trying to decide between them. The domesticity of the moment eased him somewhat, let Takeshi finish coming down from that trembling edge, the hurt soothed over entirely. He relaxed, sleepy, into his bed. 

“Chrome came back from Italy the other day, and Yuni used it as an excuse to come visit. Said she couldn’t allow the Vongola Mist Guardian to fly public when instead they could travel together and catch up. I’m -- really sorry we can’t send the jet for you, Takeshi-kun.”

“Tsuna! Don’t worry about it,” he groaned, half-laughing. “I’ll get home eventually, it’ll be fine. And public transport is always interesting. I like to people watch.”

“...It’ll be good to have you home.”

Those words -- the _tone_ of them -- landed heavily in Takeshi’s chest, curled around and laid there atop his heart and refused to move, both grounding and entirely too heavy, making it difficult to breathe. It wasn’t any different from what Tsuna had said earlier, but somehow it meant more said in _that_ way, in _that_ voice. Takeshi took in a deep breath, bracing himself against the emotion it stirred within him.

“Yeah,” he agreed, voice too soft. “I’m looking forward to it.”

\---

Takeshi should have known Tsuna would read him loud and clear, because he always did, even if he couldn’t bring himself to act on it immediately. But instead Takeshi let his exhaustion and delirium and compromised emotional state lull him towards sleep. It had been a long three months after all, and if his boss was busy meeting and greeting close friends of the Family, then there was no reason not to indulge in a nap. 

Luckily, he wasn’t so far gone that he didn’t hear the text alert from his phone. He groaned in dismay at first, but opened it to find a text from Tsuna: **do you want a reward now?**

Quite suddenly, Takeshi was _wide_ awake.

**do you really have to ask? thought you were busy**

Tsuna only replied: **take off your pants**

Jesus. Takeshi had to bite at his lip, thinking too hard about Tsuna doing this in public, tapping out commands all while pretending like his mind _wasn’t_ in the gutter. Glancing at the clock, Takeshi saw it was only about ten minutes after their call had ended. He’d drifted off fast; just enough time for Tsuna to finish dressing and climb into the back of a cab. Without another thought, he took his pants off, his belt already discarded lazily on the floor next to the bed.

**done**

**good. boxers too?**

**well hey now, that wasn’t what you asked for was it?**

**oh** replied Tsuna. **so that’s how you want it. get on your belly then**

Shit, fuck. Takeshi felt the thrill of that prickle through him. He could only imagine Tsuna’s flushed, slightly nervous face, always so serious whenever they did anything like this. Careful, cautious, wanting to get everything just right and watching Takeshi so _closely_. He could only imagine it, but Takeshi had a good imagination and, happily, a lot of memories he could refer to.

**gonna be hard to type like this**

**that’s fine** Tsuna sent. **your hands are going to be too busy anyway**

In short order, Tsuna had Takeshi on his belly with his ass lifted slightly in the air, boxers pushed down and tangled around his ankles. **don’t take them all the way off, i like them there** Tsuna had admitted. With one hand Takeshi was keeping a hold of his phone. The other was underneath him a little awkwardly, playing only with the head of his dick, as directed.

**you all the way hard yet?**

**y**

**wanna see**

Takeshi groaned, shivering all over.

**let me see takeshikun. flip back over and take a picture of your dick for me. don’t stop playing with yourself though**

Squeezing his eyes shut, Takeshi kept rubbing his thumb in slow circles, just how he knew Tsuna liked to do to him, _would_ be doing if he were here with him. Awkwardly, he shuffled back onto his back, knees splayed and boxers still around his ankles. He took the picture with an only slightly shaky hand: his flat belly, the dark curls of his pubic hair, the vulnerable crease of his hips, dick red and fat, waiting for a proper touch.

**your evil** he sent, along with the picture.

**you’re gorgeous** Tsuna sent back.

Huffing, Takeshi flopped his head back onto his pillows, letting his phone fall onto his chest for a moment. He closed his eyes, focused on the sensation of how his own fingers teased him. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough, not anywhere close to it. How long would Tsuna draw this out? 

When two minutes passed without a new text, Takeshi figured: a long time.

“Fuck,” he whispered breathlessly to his dick, pulse jumping with anticipation. “Ohhh fuck. This is gonna be intense.”

\----

Ten minutes.

_Ten fucking minutes_ before Tsuna texted him again.

**sorry** he said, like it was no big deal. **got to the restaurant, yuni says hi by the way**

Takeshi whimpered. There wasn’t enough sensation to get him off, but ten minutes of constant, pleasurable touches, just _waiting_ for Tsuna to tell him what to do next, knowing where he was, what he was doing, all while Takeshi was doing _this_ \-- it was getting to him. Squirming through his gut, his muscles; getting him twitchy and needy and gasping for it.

Already he’d had to talk himself out of taking himself fully in hand to jack himself off, determined to behave. For _Tsuna_. But fuck, _fuck_ \--

**pls pls pls**

**i want another picture**

Takeshi dropped the phone twice trying to take one. It looked almost exactly like the first except for being a little blurrier. His dick a little redder; a lot slicker. In the background his toes were curled, tense in the sheets to try and keep from shifting. **happy now??**

**lol i meant of your face (:**

The breath he’d been taking got caught in his chest. That was harder to do, and Tsuna knew it. But Takeshi did it because-- because he _wanted_ Tsuna to see it. Wanted him to see how Takeshi opened up for him, expression gone raw and hungry, lashes wet, pupils dilated, a flush turning his skin pink. He looked debauched; he looked _hungry_ for it, and Takeshi felt a flash of greedy desire in his gut seeing himself so stripped bare. 

**fuck yeah** Tsuna sent. **your mouth’s so red. been biting it?**

**y**

**suck on your fingers for me**

Takeshi did, and when they were spit slick and he’d nearly choked on his own god damned middle finger, Tsuna added **fuck your mouth with them** which wasn’t that far off from what Takeshi was doing already, but still made him moan around them from deep in his gut. 

**i’ll be back soon** Tsuna sent shortly after. **but while i’m busy here i want you fingering yourself with those fingers you got nice and wet for me ok? just one or two and only the tip**

Takeshi wanted to _cry_.

**y**

\----

**(: you’re perfect** was what Tsuna sent him fifteen minutes later. 

Seeing it light up on his dark screen was enough to make Takeshi whine with relief. He’d rolled onto his side so he could keep an eye on it, still only teasing the head of his cock with one hand, the other behind him to play with his ass. Only the tip of one finger playing with the rim, dipping in and in and in, but not offering any pressure, no feeling of fullness, only _sensation_.

It was all building up in him, a dizzying, tingling sort of crescendo that had Takeshi not thinking about anything at all. He was only breathing, feeling his way through this torment, determined to hold out long enough for Tsuna to get him where he wanted to go.

Not that it would take much maneuvering on Tsuna’s part: 

**i know you’re doing just as i asked**

**do you know how difficult it is to look the waiter i nthe face when i know what you’re doing for me**

**does it feel good? i can’t stop thinking about rimming you**

**i want to bend you over this table takeshikun, eat you out right in front of everyone so they all see how good and perfect you are. make you come all over this nice table cloth by the time i’m done**

**you feeling good yet?**

Fuck him, Takeshi thought, feeling wild with it. Fuck Tsuna, who knew that Takeshi couldn’t answer because his hands were _busy_ , and fuck him for winding him tighter and tighter and tighter and oh _god_ , Takeshi wanted to come. He couldn’t handle this, it wasn’t _enough_ , he needed-- he _wanted_ \--

**one finger, press in all the way**

The pillow muffled the sob of relief as Takeshi did as he was told, body drawing tight like a bow string even as he relaxed onto the digit. It was a tight fit, a bit of a burn; most of the saliva from earlier had dried out and Takeshi didn’t do this often, rarely fingered himself whenever he masturbated. Just for Tsuna. God, but it felt good though, a raw sensation pushing up and up and up and-- and--

It still wasn’t _enough_.

**bet you wish that was my dick in you**

**wish it was too, but i like seeing you all clenched up on my fingers too. i always want to tell you how hot you look, how fucking good you feel but i never can find the words in the moment. this is good, cause all i have is words**

**love fucking your greedy ass takeshikun**

**love rubbing your prostate until youre squirming**

**you doing thta yet? i want you to**

**you’re so so so good takeshikun**

Takeshi had to bite at the pillow, he couldn’t stand the noises he was making. He wanted to claw his skin off because it felt so good, but fucking _still_ not enough. It was all taunt, torment, the gentle graze of his fingertips against dick and prostate. He wanted Tsuna’s dick in him like he’d said, wanted to be pressed down and pounded into, full of sensation, wrapped up in Tsuna’s arms where Takeshi could see his serious face and hear his quiet voice awkwardly say these filthy things he kept sending, until Takeshi laughed and kissed him and Tsuna lost his nerves and hunger was all that was left, until he was slurring them into Takeshi’s skin, fingers tight enough on his hips to bruise.

He wanted that, all of it; and he wanted it _now_ , he wanted to _come_ , he _wanted_ \--

**keep that up, food’s here**

\----

Fuck if he had any idea how long it lasted. All Takeshi knew was that he’d folded himself down into pure sensation, let himself drift on the maddening pleasure because it was the only way to survive it this long. He felt hazy and warm and sparking, and when his phone lit up and he read **are you ready?** he didn’t understand what that meant at first. 

But Tsuna said **use your whole hand takeshikun jack yourself off for me** so Takeshi did.

It felt good. Takeshi sighed, relaxing into it, the increase in pleasure and the strange-electric feel of his own skin. Everything felt connected and molten and heavy and he never wanted it to end. Just wanted to stay here, floating along, forever and ever.

But Tsuna said **i want you to come for me** so Takeshi did that too.

The whole world dissolved, pulling him under.

\----

An hour later Takeshi was lazing about in a warm bubble bath, laughing with his phone plugged into the charger and on speaker phone, Tsuna on the other end of the line. “How much do you want to bet that Byakuran totally knew what you were getting up to.”

Tsuna groaned, sounding miserable with it. “I don’t even want to-- not thinking about it, nope!”

“Though I mean, really. If anyone knew then it was probably--”

“NOT THINKING ABOUT IT.”

Takeshi laughed even more, water sloshing up the sides of the tub. When he’d come back to himself, shivering in the bed, Tsuna’s name had been on his phone’s screen, the call ringing and ringing and ringing. He’d ducked out of dinner early, stammering out apologies with his face no doubt flushed red and pulse fluttering frantic in his throat. For ten minutes Tsuna stood down the block in a quiet little alley, talking Takeshi into drawing a bath, pulling on the hotel’s fancy robe, and eating some of the complimentary grapes and chocolate they still sent him even after three months.

“You’re amazing,” he’d kept saying, voice breathless with awe. 

Now, Tsuna was finally back home, wearily taking off his shoes and pulling off his tie. In the background, Takeshi could hear Lambo and Fuuta arguing about one of I-Pin’s college courses and whether or not they should fly to China to kick the prof’s ass who’d given her paper a D-. It made Takeshi smile; the smile grew bigger when he realized that soon he’d be there to hear it in person, to see them all with his own eyes.

“I liked my reward,” he said, a little slyly.

Tsuna choked. Takeshi heard the sound of him carefully closing the door between himself and the kids, who would always and forever _remain_ kids to them, despite their advancing age. Tsuna held the phone close to his mouth, saying quietly, nervously: “Yeah? You did?”

“I did,” Takeshi said. “Now I want to come home even more. Have you do some of those things you were suggesting. Eating out my greedy ass, was it?”

Tsuna groaned, sounding mortified.

Takeshi grinned, sinking further into his bubbles. He felt better than he had in months: three of them, to be exact. “It’s okay,” Takeshi murmured, voice threaded through with a bright, loving tease: “For _your_ reward, I’ll consider sitting on your face while you do it.”

Over the phone, there came the sound of something breaking.

“TSUNA-NII,” hollered Fuuta’s distant voice. “WHY ARE YOU PUNCHING THE WALL AGAIN?”

Lambo asked, “IS THAT YAMAMOTO-KUN ON THE PHONE? OH MAN, ARE YOU TAKING OUT YOUR SEXUAL FRUSTRATION ON THE HOUSE AGAIN?”

“Kill me now,” Tsuna hissed, but Takeshi only laughed so hard he snorted bubbles up his nose while listening to Tsuna try and convince them that the hole in the wall was of completely innocent origin, and _not_ because he’d been so turned on he couldn’t contain it. 

All in all, Takeshi decided, not a bad way to say farewell to Sin City.  
  
  
  


\----

**Author's Note:**

> thanks again for reading! <3


End file.
